


Burnt Out Ends Of Smoky Days

by orphan_account



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: tw: car crash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:07:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21702679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Unbeknownst to Maxine Caulfield, another Max had left her timeline after accepting Chloe's request to help her die by turning up the morphine. Maxine awakes to no knowledge of what had happened, and leaves for Blackwell Academy only to be called out of a class into the principal's office to meet with Officer Berry on account of the Prices having discovered their daughter dead from an overdose of morphine.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	Burnt Out Ends Of Smoky Days

_"Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone." -Memory, Cats_

* * *

Literally one blink had transported Maxine Caulfield from Blackwell on Wednesday evening to sitting by Chloe's bedside on Thursday morning. To a Chloe she believed to be fast asleep, to a hole in her life where she remembered nothing of the previous night and the small hours of this morning. One second, she'd begun to speak, and the next second, words died before they reached her lips, words that had been addressed to her new friends, and not to her old childhood friend, fast asleep with a little smile. From certainty and concrete memories to uncertainty and absent recollections. From healthy, abled friends frolicking and shooting the breeze on the lawn on campus, to the bedside of a severely disabled, world-weary young woman she'd once called her best friend forever.

Maxine had quickly grabbed her bag and ran out of the Prices' household without a backward glance or goodbye, convincing herself she'd just forget about all this. The school bus drove at a speedy pace on quiet morning roads, but the visage of Chloe with the tube in her throat and the IV drip in her arm hovered bright as day in her mind's eye. The hole left behind by more than twelve hours of missing memories yawned even greater in her thoughts the farther she left the Prices behind.

God, it was such a relief to see Blackwell Academy again. To see her dorm, her friends (especially Victoria, who had been texting her non-stop this morning), and dive back into her classes, though not necessarily her abandoned homework; she already had procrastinated on four assignments due next Monday. These hallowed halls had gifted her with popularity and the tantalising promise of fame and fortune.

And so, she went to her classes for the morning, convincing herself all was well, everything was cool--waking up at the Prices' was just a weird blip in her day. Maybe she'd just somehow sleepwalked to the Prices' after a night getting high as fuck, and her friends probably wanted to see where she'd walk to, and left her at Chloe's house as some kind of weird prank. Or something. Other than that, everything during the remainder of the morning ticked along like normal, like always.

That is, until later in the morning when someone rapped on the science lab door in the middle of an experiment. Maxine fumbled and dropped her flask--which thankfully hadn't any corrosive chemicals in it--in her fright. Other students paused to look at the door, distracted from the experiments at hand. When Ms Grant opened the door, everyone, including Maxine, could see, clear as day, the school's security guard accompanied by a police officer. The security guard's eyes scanned the room until they settled on Maxine, and he pointed a finger in her direction. Everyone's heads whipped round to stare at her.

_Oh shit. What now?_

"Maxine Caulfield. Come with us," the security guard commanded.

"Uh, I have class right now."

"I'm afraid you must attend us immediately."

"Can't it wait?"

" _No_."

Maxine rolled her eyes, and glanced over at Ms Grant, only to see she was gesturing at her to come over there.

_You know it's bad when you'd rather stay in science class than miss it._

"Fine. I'll come."

No sooner had the door slammed behind her, Maxine stared down the security guard.

"Okay, what the fuck?"

"Language, Miss."

"No, I'm not going anywhere until you tell me why you're making me skip class, and why you have a cop with you."

This time, it was the cop who spoke in his measured voice. "We will explain in Principal Wells' office. He will be in there waiting for us."

"No, just give me the blurb. What am I in trouble for this time? Weed? Graffiti? Parking in the handicapped spot?"

The cop glanced over at the security guard, before addressing Maxine, his face even graver than before.

"None of the above."

"Then what?"

"Let's just say we were called to investigate you once Miss Price's parents discovered her this morning with the lethal overdose."

 _Wait...what? Lethal overdose? Okay, this makes_ no _fucking sense. They must've seen her asleep and over-reacted._

"Uh...what?"

"No more talking out here, Miss Caulfield. Let's go."

With that, the cop turned and walked ahead down the hallway, the security guard's hand clasping Maxine's upper arm, forcing her to follow along.

_Yeah. This is gonna be stupid. Over-reaction. She was totally sleeping. Sure, it's fucked up she ended up completely paralysed, but come on, even I wouldn't overdose her on painkillers even if I could to put her out of her misery, because illegal. Morphine's powerful, and some nurse or whatever with the math skills of a two-year-old probably set the dosage wrong and whoops. Looks like someone's gonna get fired and their medical certifications revoked._

Interrogation, that's what it was. An interrogation. Even despite Maxine telling them the truth--she _had_ woken up (sort of, anyway) to discover Chloe fast asleep, with no signs that anything was wrong at all. They'd been looking back at old photos in an album, and it was in the middle of their recollections of their childhood that Chloe had fallen asleep. Well, that's what Maxine said anyway on the fly, trying to piece it together from whatever she could of that weird moment when she came to this morning. The thought that Chloe was dead at all had never crossed her mind--of course she couldn't be. Why would she be? She was Chloe. Death didn't touch her. 

But no, Officer Berry told her, the Prices had discovered their daughter dead after Maxine left, and immediately called the police, suspicious of Chloe's overdosage and subsequent passing. Maxine couldn't help a little nervous laugh at this. The Prices were fine people, they had always liked her as though she was part of the family. Even so, Officer Berry had conceded, even someone with hearts as big as Joyce's and William's had limits. This was their _daughter,_ their only _child_ , they had lost. Even Maxine Caulfield, whom they had loved dearly as though she were one of their own, had well and truly crossed a line with a single action seen in their eyes as unforgivable.

Officer Berry, naturally, didn't believe a word of Maxine's claim of having absolutely no memory of the alleged overdosage incident. She had no idea where the morphine injector was even kept--the bathroom attached to Chloe's room, probably. Nor had she any idea whether Chloe had asked her to up the dosage, an admission that Officer Berry no doubt counted as suspect in his investigation of this case.

"Did she ask you to do it?" Officer Berry had asked.

 _No way. There's_ no _way she would. Not Chloe. Never Chloe. So out of character for her._

"She didn't," Maxine answered, voice full of confidence. Officer Berry tightened his lips, looked at her a long time in silence, before shaking his head, scribbling down a note or two.

"So it was a willful overdose?"

"What? I meant--"

"She didn't ask you to do it, did she?"

"She's like the most cheerful person I've met, it's ridiculous. If that stupid phrase, 'the sun shines out their ass', were in human form, it'd be Chloe Price."

Maxine hoped that was not a flash of sadness or pity in the officer's eyes. When he spoke, his voice was much quieter.

"Miss Caulfield, I have in the length of my career seen too many families wrecked by the suicide of a loved one who otherwise had appeared content with their life. It's when they are suddenly very happy after a long time of depression that we must be most vigilant."

"Doesn't sound like Chloe to me, Officer."

Another note in his pad. "I'll take your word for it, Miss Caulfield." A deep sigh. "Do you realize how hard it is to accidentally overdose someone on an IV drip?"

"No."

"Very hard. We have reason to suspect--"

"I thought she was asleep!"

"I know. But I have to question your decision to use the morphine injector to give her that dosage. Why?"

"I don't know why!" Maxine slumped back in the chair, folding her arms like a petulant child. "Can't I go back to class now?"

"I'm afraid not. Please answer my question."

"But my friends will be--"

"Not now. Please, I just want to know why."

An exasperated sigh and scuffing of feet from Maxine. "I _told_ you. I don't know!"

"Please, all I want to know is your reasoning."

"I don't know, alright?! I thought she was sleeping!"

Principal Wells sat up straight in his chair, leaning over his desk, hands clasped in front of him, staring unblinking into Maxine's face.

"Miss Caulfield, that morphine injector didn't just walk up to the IV drip and decide to overdose her. The only person in the room who could have done that was you. Please tell Officer Berry the truth now, and perhaps we can get this over with. I don't have all day, and I will need to call your parents about this."

_Whatever, I don't care what my parents will say. I just don't want to be in a cell without friends, and I have a party tonight! Goddamit._

"Whatever, call my parents, like I care."

"I don't appreciate your attitude, Miss Caulfield."

"The feeling's mutual."

Officer Berry cleared his throat, bringing attention back to himself. "Settle down, please. I only ask for an honest and calm discussion here."

_Like anyone can be calm talking to a fucking cop. Jesus._

"I _am_ being honest, I swear on this stupid bronze bird on Principal Well's desk, alright?"

_For serious, how can you trust someone with a bronze bird in his office? So lame._

"Miss Caulfield!" Principal Wells began to rise from his desk, but Officer Berry motioned to him to sit back down.

"I understand this is a stressful situation, but all I want is for us to come to some answers about what happened with Miss Price."

"Fine."

_Maybe if I come up with something that'll get these assholes off my back, then I can go back to my friends and thinking about the party tonight. Shit. Need to pull together all my non-existent acting skills._

"You want the truth?"

"Yes!" Principal Wells threw up his hands in exasperation.

"Thank you, Miss Caulfield," Officer Berry said at the same time in a much calmer manner.

"Fine. It was out of pity, alright?" Maxine swallowed back her exasperated sigh. "I couldn't bear seeing her like that, helpless and unable to do anything for herself. I wanted her to be free. You know. Like a butterfly."

_Whoa, okay, that's poetic enough, Maxine._

"Who'd want to live like that anyway? I know I wouldn't."

_That's not wrong. Fucking crap deal to end up as a quadriplegic after some dickhead totals your car._

Dead silence. Principal Wells' chair creaked as he leaned back, hands hanging limp over the armrests. Maxine didn't look at Officer Berry, though the sound of his pencil scratching down notes seemed unnaturally loud in her ears.

"Thank you, Miss Caulfield," Officer Berry said after a time, closing his notebook and replacing his pencil in his shirt pocket. 'That's all we need to know for now."

"Good. Can I go back to class now? I kinda want to see my friends again."

"While I sympathise with your desire to go back to class, I'm afraid we must--"

"You wouldn't do that. I have a party tonight."

"Parties will not bring back the Prices' daughter," Principal Wells interjected, "I'm afraid Officer Berry is right."

"So you can't wait one more night to throw me in some dingy, gross prison?"

"I'm afraid not," Officer Berry said, "We must take you into custody overnight to prepare for trial."

"God, that's going to be such a trial."

Neither man looked amused by her attempt at a pun.

_Not like principals and cops have a fucking sense of humour. My friends would've died laughing at that._

Maxine sighed, sat up in the chair, her fingers drumming impatiently on her knees.

"If you must, then. Can I at least take some of my shit with me?"

"No cell-phones--"

"What! That's outrageous!"

"We do not allow prisoners to have any form of contact on them."

"That's so unfair."

Officer Berry gave her a long, stern look. "That is the law."

"Still unfair. I want to at least keep in touch with my friends, even if I can't party tonight."

"I understand, but I cannot let you go to the party."

"You're not my father, Officer."

"No, I'm not, but we must take you in today. These are serious charges laid against you, and you have admitted in part to deliberately tampering with the morphine dosage."

_Tampering that I definitely don't remember doing._

"Do you have _any_ idea what pain you've put the Prices through? This is not something taken lightly. You took advantage of their trust, and now their daughter is dead."

"At least Chloe is happy and free from her handicap now, right?"

"Not six feet under in a coffin by your hand, she isn't!" Principal Wells rumbled, standing up at his desk. "I hope you have a very long think in custody about how much pain you've put her parents through. You'll have plenty of time tonight to think about that, won't you?"

_Yeah, that'll keep me up all night. I'll sleep fine. Even if it is in a fucking jail._

"Please, sir, stay calm," Officer Berry chastened the principal, "I am not looking to antagonise Miss Caulfield or this situation any further." The officer stood up, nodding at Maxineine to do the same. "I will escort Miss Caulfield to her room to gather anything she wants to take with her."

Maxine offered a careless shrug. "Fine."

"Thank you for your cooperation."

_Whatthefuckever. Chloe's dead either way. May as well "cooperate" with this fucking cop._

In the end, all she grabbed from her dorm room, without really looking as she snatched them out of her dresser, were two photos--both with Chloe in them--and a couple of her most treasured fashion magazines stashed under her bed.

"Can I just at least check my phone and send a text to a friend or two?"

Officer Berry considered it a second, before nodding. "Be quick about it."

Plopping down on her bed with its velvet coverlet--a gift from Victoria--Maxine took out her phone and checked it for new messages. There were a few there, including one from Chloe sent just this morning, not even an hour ago.

_Whoa, she came back from the dead?_

But it wasn't Chloe who had written a message--it was William:

_"How can you do this to our daughter? By killing her with an overdose, you have betrayed our trust in you. In a million years, I never thought you would be so willing to take Chloe away from us. Do not ever contact or talk to us again. We mean it. Do not bother replying to this message, for your number has been blocked from both this phone and our landline. Goodbye, Miss Caulfield. The police have been notified."_

_Ouch,_ Maxine thought, staring at the message. _That...that actually stings a little. I used to get along well with William. Better than I got along with my own dad, really._

She backed out of the new message, forced it to the back of her mind, and instead sent a quick, would-be chirpy text to Victoria, letting her know what had happened and where she was going. Feeling the officer's eyes on her, she sent the text and dropped the cellphone on her bed, turning to the cop.

"Happy now, Officer?"

After a careful survey of Maxine's goodies, Officer Berry nodded his approval.

"Let's go, Miss Caulfield."

* * *

Max curled up on the hard bed, arms around her knees, as she watched the late evening sun inching itself below the horizon, at the prime of its golden hour. But instead of being outside, taking advantage of the gentle light to take photographs, here she was, stuck in a cell, isolated from her friends and the outside world. Everyone else was going to be at the party, and they'd all be having fun while she sat all alone here.

_The joy._

There really wasn't much in her...room, if it could be called that, apart from a bed with a single blanket and a pillow. Nothing to keep her entertained, not even a TV to let her lose countless hours in here. Back in her dorm, the fashion magazines she'd snagged had looked good enough to keep her busy, they were her favourites after all. But now...even they looked boring. What she wouldn't give for her cellphone or laptop right now, but alas, she would have to make do without her social circle.

Bored. She was already so bored, flopping back now on the stiff bed, fingers drumming on her belly. So frickin' bored, and the sun was only _just_ beginning to set.

 _This sucks. I hate this already. Ugh, how do introverts and people with fucking social anxiety_ do _it, spending hours or even days away from people? No way I could live like that._

And she was going to have years of this. Cut off from her friends, all out having a life while she languished inside a cell, seeing nothing of the outside world except the sky through the window.

_Will my stuff be sent back to my parents? Or will someone else have my camera? My phone? My guitar?_

She hated to think of her parents selling off her camera to pay back all the money she'd spent on extra film and other goodies. Hell, she wouldn't be surprised if they sold off _all_ her stuff, to make up for how often their daughter had maxed out their credit cards. Bankrupting her parents just for some weed, film, and a little bit of night clubbing here and there.

_Guess they can save up again without worrying about their daughter sending them into a black hole of debt._

Maxine reached her hands behind her head as she stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting back to what had happened earlier in the morning, when she had woken up to discover she had somehow ended up at Chloe's place. She recalled coming to looking at an open photo album laid out on the bed, and the way too eerie silence in the room, broken only by the sound of fluid moving down the IV drip. She remembered catching out of the corner of her eye the tube running from the ventilator to where it inserted into Chloe's throat to help her breathe.

_Better her than me. What a way to live. If that's living, hooked up to a breathing machine for two years._

But nothing could equal the shock she'd felt when seeing it was Chloe asleep in that bed, her face turned toward her, eyes closed, looking for all the world like she was in a peaceful slumber, the ghost of a smile still on her lips. For all Maxine knew, that had been the first time she'd ever seen Chloe since returning (she'd sworn every day she'd visit her again--just not today, maybe tomorrow, maybe this weekend, if she wasn't too busy), but a whole evening and the early morning had been excised from her life, leaving behind no memories of what she'd done with Chloe.

_Weird how that really fucking pisses me off._

She didn't even know who or what to blame for not knowing _anything_ about what had happened since yesterday evening, and she really wanted to know what kinds of conversations she'd had with her--were they full the old witty banter? Did they chat like old times? Sure, Maxine had kept in touch in a vague way, but she'd moved on in Seattle, discovering new friends and experiences that had simply pushed out her old friendship with Chloe. Childhood friends drifted apart all the time.

_And yay me for never visiting her in hospital, even though my parents had been ready to drive me down there to visit her. But no, all I did was send a "get well soon!" card. Sure. Like that magically cured her paralysis and everything._

Chloe had looked so peaceful, her hair the same blonde colour as it always was, her face even more beautiful than she had remembered, that it had never crossed Maxine's mind she was _dead._ How could someone so vibrant and smart be silenced forever by death? She'd never even thought the absence of Chloe's chest rising and falling with each ventilator-assisted breath was strange at all. It had never even crossed Maxine's mind in the least that she could ever have turned the IV drip's dial to its maximum setting, because why would she?

_Had I done that before or after she'd fallen asleep? Had she even given me consent? Shit! Did I do that without her knowledge? While she slept? Because that's fucked up, man._

Maxine's heart hammered in her chest at the thought she could've quietly turned up the dial to lethal dosages out of--what? Pity, like she'd claimed in the principal's office? Or love, not wanting her to suffer any longer?

 _Shit. What did I fucking do? How fucking messed_ up _is it I can't remember a thing?!_

No wonder Chloe's parents were beyond pissed off at her. She'd killed their own daughter, their only child, their only pride and joy. She didn't blame William and Joyce in the least for sending her that message, nor for calling the cops. No way they would have believed her if she claimed no memory of having overdosed Chloe. Who could blame them for wanting Maxine out of their lives for good, after she had taken away their child?

_No more Belgian waffles at the Two Whales diner for me, even if I wasn't in this damn cell._

Unlatching her hands from behind her head, Maxine pushed herself up until she was sitting on the bed, swinging her legs down as she recalled the two photos she'd brought with her to the cell.

_Both with Chloe. Pretty sure she had sent one of the photos to me._

Getting off the bed, Maxine rummaged around on the floor until she found the two photos hidden under the cast aside fashion magazines near her bed.

_There they are._

Lying back on the bed again, Maxine turned over the photos in her hands, revealing an image of herself and Chloe when they were, what, ten or eleven, dressed up as pirates, Chloe wearing her captain's hat and Maxine her eyepatch. Chloe, as always, was taller than Maxine, but no less radiant as she posed with Maxine in their pirate gear, presumably right before they sailed off to take over Arcadia Bay while they had the chance.

"Whoa..." Maxine breathed in amazement, "We look so badass in our pirate gear."

 _Of course Chloe's smile is as amazing as ever. I look like a dork as usual when_ I _smile. No fair, Chloe._

It was strange to think that it had happened once upon a time, that pirate phase of theirs that began when they were seven and eight years old, and Chloe had never _quite_ grown out of. Even when Chloe was thirteen going on fourteen, she was still right into playing pirates as she had been at seven.

 _I can see why I kept this photo. We look awesome. Was this_ really _that long ago? Damn. No way we could have ever guessed what would happen to us in a mere few years._

She flipped the photo over and gasped when she saw the second photo she'd grabbed willy-nilly on her way out of her room for the last time: it was Chloe, so vibrant and healthy, posing against a new car, showing off the keys dangling from a finger hooked oh-so-casually in mid-air.

_That's right. She got the car she'd wanted. Sweet sixteen..._

She remembered Chloe sending her this photo of her brand new car on her sixteenth birthday, with Chloe posing next to it, her happiness radiating so strongly even Maxine caught herself smiling widely in response. Chloe looked absolutely stunning whenever she got so excited her eyes sparkled and looked even bluer than normal, and her grin reached from ear to ear.

"Chloe..." Maxine breathed, turning the photo over, remembering there had been a message written on the back, in Chloe's own hand. When she could still write. "Oh Chloe..."

_Hey Maxine! Check out this bitchin' new bad boy of mine--I have the coolest dad on the planet, I swear! One day I'm gonna drive this thing all the way up to Seattle and surprise you with a visit! Maybe on your eighteenth birthday! That would be awesome! I'll give you driving lessons! Love, Chloe._

Maxine stared at Chloe leaning against the car, arms spread wide, everything about her just screaming utter elation at having her first car ever. Nothing, _nothing_ in this photo hinted that a year later, at the tender age of seventeen, she'd end up as a quadriplegic in a car accident through no fault of her own.

_Eighteen. Oh god... I just turned eighteen last month._

Instead of a surprise visit from her friend on her eighteenth, Maxine woke up to Chloe dead at her own hand, nearly one whole month into being eighteen. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the photo of sixteen-year-old Chloe, still able to use all four of her limbs, able to drive, able to wind down the window to let in the fresh salty air by the beach, and give the horn a loud honk and wave out to friends she passed by.

_Shit...this sucks. This fucking sucks. Why Chloe? Why her? Why did fate or the universe or whatthefuckever decide Chloe deserved this? Deserved to...to have this happen..._

Something was collapsing inside Maxine, like her whole body was ready to curl up on itself, and never unfold until all the hurt, the pain inside her heart went away. Her stomach felt heavy, as though she had swallowed a lead weight, and it was now inside her belly, slowly being digested by the erosion of grief.

"You deserved none of this... _none_ of this...we were--we should've been--Maxine and Chloe forever..."

Something wet dripped on the photograph, leaving a damp mark behind.

_No, no, don't start, don't cry...god, Maxine, once you start you'll never..._

Too late. The dam had broken, Maxine squeezing her eyes shut, curling up on the bed, photo gripped tight in her hands against her chest, shoulders heaving with her sobs, teeth clenched as the fortress of denial and shock broke, and the full force of Chloe's death hit her all at once. She didn't care, didn't give a single fuck if anyone heard her. Let them laugh, let them judge if they wanted to. Her best friend was _dead_ , and there was _nothing_ she could do to undo it. Dead at Maxine's own hand, and she had no memory of having done the deed. It didn't matter now did it? It didn't matter anymore, now that the Prices hated her--and rightfully so--and Chloe was dead. If only she could have had one more day--no, two--three, four days; a _week_ , a _month_ \--with her. God, there was so much they could've caught up on! And now it was too fucking late. All her fucking fault. She deserved Joyce and William's hatred. Every bit of it. She'd killed their daughter, and had no idea how or what moved her to do it.

_I'm sorry, Chloe! I'm so sorry...please forgive me. Please._

She didn't notice the blue butterfly with its unearthly glow alighting on her arm, its wings fluttering quietly against her skin as her tears wetted the pillow under her head, tears wrenching through her ribcage, her lungs, her throat, until, exhausted from all the sobbing, Maxine fell into a deep sleep, still clutching the photo of Chloe and her new car.

* * *

At first, she didn't dream, her world nothing but timeless darkness, the seconds and hours going by in an instant, the stars peeking and quietly disappearing outside her window. So deep in sleep she didn't hear the screaming row that erupted not ten feet away down the hall, nor the clanging of keys on her door as someone brought in some bread and a bowl of water with a flannel. Nothing could wake her up from her sleep, steeped in both exhaustion and grief.

But, eventually, dream she did, Maxine awakening to find herself on the deck of a ship rocking on a vast expanse of deep blue ocean. The sky above her was as blue as the water below, and the sun so bright Maxine squinted against it, eyes watering from the glare. Turning her head to look up, she saw giant black sails with a Jolly Roger flailing in the stiff breeze.

_Wait...am I on a pirate ship? How did I get here?_

"Oh hey, _someone's_ awake!"

_Chloe?!_

Maxine was sure she'd never sprung to her feet so fast in her life on seeing Chloe standing over her, hands planted on her hips, an eyebrow raised as she looked at her in a mix of amusement and befuddlement.

"You're--you're here! You're okay!"

Flinging her arms around her, Maxine held on tight, not wanting to let her go ever. _Ever._ She had her best friend back, and if this was a dream, she didn't want to wake up. Never.

"What is up with you, Maxine?" Chloe exclaimed, thumping Maxine on the back. "What's all this mushiness about?"

Maxine pulled back, hands gripping her friend's upper arms, her eyes hungrily taking in everything about Chloe's face, her long blonde hair (odd, it was short, last time she remembered), and she wasn't paralysed at all. No tube going into her throat, no ventilator to help her breathe, no IV drip delivering her craploads of pain meds. Healthy and happy just as Chloe should be. _Always_ and forever should have been.

"I'm just--I'm so glad to see you again after all this time!"

"You saw me ten seconds ago, dude."

"Really, you're healthy, you're gorgeous, you're--you're Chloe Price."

"Wow Maxine, I don't know what the hell's up with you, but you're acting weird today."

"It's probably the sea. Or the wind. Or..." Maxine gestured upward at the Jolly Roger sails. "Or the Jolly Roger. Yeah, probably that."

"Huh, weird," Chloe shrugged, before grabbing Maxine's hand. "Hey, let me show you something really cool! Come on!"

_I should've kept in touch. Should've kept in touch. Instead I wasted time on getting drunk, stoned, and popular._

"Where are we going?"

"It's a hole to another universe, of course!"

"Really?" Maxine asked, already a little breathless from running with Chloe to wherever this portal--or hole to another universe, apparently--was.

Chloe finally stopped outside a cabin door, beginning to unbolt the many locks holding it shut tight.

"Okay, not another _universe_ , cool as that might be, but somewhere!"

"Like a cabin?"

"Don't be so unimaginative. Hah! Got it!"

With an almighty clunk, the final lock fell away, and Chloe began pulling at the heavy wooden door, grunting and groaning with the effort.

"Wow, Maxine, are you gonna just stand there instead of helping your best friend?"

"I'm on it, Chloe."

With their combined efforts and cursing, the door finally yielded to their pull, the interior as dark as an overcast night on the high seas.

"That's...that's a very dark place."

"Let's step in and find out!" Chloe stepped over the threshold. "Wow, these stairs are _steep_." 

Maxine followed after Chloe, stepping into the darkness, the lights suddenly snapping on of their own accord, and she could see her friend a step ahead of her, sagging in disappointment.

"Shit, some pirate ship this is. It's just a little cabin. You were right, Maxine. Whoa, okay, this is weird," Chloe took Maxine's hand again and pulled her over to one of the bunker beds with a steering wheel stuck to a post. "Weird this, huh?"

Maxine shrugged, sitting down next to Chloe on the firm mattress. "Not that weird. I'm sure people stick steering wheels to bunker posts all the time."

"You're right. Maybe they do."

Maxine had no idea if Chloe was actually being serious, but knowing her, probably not. Just being the same old snarky Chloe she had known and loved. Chloe turned to place her hands firmly on the steering wheel, and Maxine immediately heard what sounded like an engine starting up.

"We're driving this beast to hell and back," Chloe declared, flashing a grin back at Maxine, "Or, at least, to Seattle and then to hell."

"Where's that?"

"Seattle or hell?"

"I know where hell is. Where's Seattle? We're out in the middle of the ocean."

"It's in Washington, you idiot. Come on, buckle up, I'm not going to be responsible for you flying out the windscreen if we crash into a tree. You're not dying, not on my watch."

Suddenly, in that typical, non-sequitur style of dreams, Maxine found herself and Chloe driving along in the latter's new car, the one for her sweet sixteen. The music was jamming on the radio, Chloe's fingers drumming to the beat on the steering wheel. Her expression was so carefree and blissful, Maxine felt her heart flutter. And that was before Chloe casually dropped a hand to lay it on Maxine's knee.

"We're hitting the road, baby. You and me, we're awesome, right?"

Maxine tried not to think too hard on how Chloe's hand felt on her knee, the little squeeze she did that made her blush in a way even Victoria couldn't do to her.

"Yes, Chloe, we are awesome."

"Damn right we are."

Then--

Maxine heard the squeal of tires, several angry honks, screams from people on the footpaths, and out of the corner of her eye, she spotted an SUV haring straight for Chloe's side of the car.

"CHLOE!"

The world spun and spun, sky over tarmac, end over end, the car spinning straight into a ditch, followed by a sickening, god-awful _crack_ followed by Chloe's groan of pain. Maxine should've been dead, but somehow she could move, despite being pinned to her seat. She didn't want to look over at Chloe, knowing that was her _neck_ she'd heard snapping, her head twisting around at an unnatural angle.

"Chloe! Chloe can you hear me?!"

"Maxine...I can't feel anything...Maxine! _Maxine!_ I can't feel anything! Fuck! Help me, Maxine!"

And Chloe _screamed_ , a scream so raw and primal in its terror and pain. Maxine grabbed on to her hand, squeezing it tight, knowing she would never feel it again, _never_ , and then--

Maxine jolted awake, photo slipping from her fingers as her eyes snapped open, heart hammering hard against her ribs, her breathing rapid and shallow as sweat beaded on her forehead.

_Oh god, oh god, oh god..._

She wished she could forget that snap of Chloe's neck, the way her head had been twisted at that angle, the way the car spun and spun until it landed in a ditch. Chloe panicking, her scream, her body limp in the seat, no longer able to feel _anything_.

"Chloe?" Maxine rasped, eyes wide in the dark, her breathing ragged and unnaturally loud in the small hours of night. "Fuck..."

She tried to get a hold of her own breathing, laying a hand on her forehead, wiping away the sweat beading there.

_Just a nightmare._

But a nightmare Chloe could never wake up from. Maxine had the luxury of waking up; Chloe never ever had.

_You're here, Maxine. Okay, you're isolated from your friends, the party's probably over, everyone's had their fun, and Chloe's--_

Then she noticed, _really_ noticed, the butterfly on the wall she'd been staring without really seeing all this time.

_Okay, that's weird too. Are butterfly wings supposed to glow like that? Phosphorescent? Chloe was the science nerd, not me._

The butterfly fluttered away from the wall, flying toward Maxine until it landed on her outstretched hand. Bringing her hand close to her face, Maxine studied the insect up close, hypnotised by the glow of its blue wings.

"Whoa," she whispered, "Your wings _glow_. You're like...I don't know, one of those glowing animals?" Maxine smiled weakly at it. "Chloe--" its wings fluttered a little more at the name "--would've known. She loved science. Wanted to be an engineer or a geochemist. Oh Chloe..." Another wing flutter again at the name. "She could've been anything she wanted to be. She was fuck-off smart. And then..." Maxine sniffled. Her friends--and even a part of herself--would have laughed at her to see her talking to a fucking _insect_. Insects were for squashing, not for confiding. "It's all my fault. I don't even remember _anything,_ it's so fucking weird. I killed my Chloe. And I don't even know _how_ or _why._ "

_Well, actually...maybe deep down I do. Maybe what I said to the officer was kinda true. But it wouldn't have been pity, right? Would it have been...mercy?_

"I can't even remember if I said--said goodbye. My own best friend." Maxine closed her eyes, seeing a ghost of blue light on the backs of her eyelids. "I want to think that I did, even if I don't remember. I'm so selfish, not selfless, like Chloe." A fat tear rolled over Maxine's temple, into her hair. "Look at what she had to go through. She didn't deserve to die hooked up to a fucking ventilator, in constant pain. Two years of that. Fucking hell. Literally and figuratively."

She opened her eyes to see the butterfly had left her hand and settled on her chest, right over her heart, its wings still that soft blue glow. There was...something about this butterfly that made Maxine feel like she was talking to a friend, perhaps one she had known forever, had met in different lives and in different universes running parallel to hers.

"I know she would have visited me in an instant, were I the one in her place," Maxine whispered to the butterfly. "I probably wouldn't have deserved her visits though. I'm fucking selfish, right? Not like Chloe. Chloe who could have won a Nobel Prize for discovering alternate realities or some shit. Photographers? They'll never discover some awesome new planet or a cure for paralysis."

She fell into silence again for several minutes, the butterfly never moving from its spot right above Maxine's heart.

"She'd have done the same for me, right?" she whispered, her eyes starting to close again, drowsiness returning to send her back to sleep. "She'd have helped me... I know she would've. So selfless and pure, even if she is a total punk at heart, and a bitch in the morning." Maxine let loose a slow sigh, head falling to one side as she began to doze back off. "Chloe..."

The butterfly's wings shivered again, blue in the darkness of the midnight-soaked room, Maxine slipping back into deep, dreamless sleep. 

Hours later, she awoke to bright sunlight and a radio squawking in the distance. 

_"Another fine Friday in Arcadia Bay, with not a cloud in sight! We expect sunny skies all day today, with a hint of overcast skies late in the evening..."_


End file.
